Just to re-cap …
Remember when we took the toddler to the hearing test? And learned a few things, like …
So the next day, we took him to a walk-in clinic, and learned a few more things …
So the toddler saw his family doctor last Friday, and we learned a few more things:
Oh! But wait! Then we saw the ENT a week later, on Monday, and learned a few MORE things:
Here’s what we know:
I was very impressed by the ENT. He was smart and to-the-point, and Darling Husband and I both liked him very much.
While I kind of wished he had just said, “Yes, let’s get some tubes in that kid’s ears!” — because I strongly feel he has a persistent fluid problem — he said we will wait two months to see if it clears up on his own. Which is smart, I suppose, since he’s never even seen him before.
We have a follow-up already booked with the ENT for May 28, when the toddler will have his ears checked to see if the fluid is still there. If it is, he’ll probably get tubes. If it’s gone, the ENT will perform a hearing test right there to see if his hearing loss is gone.
I’m feeling much better about the whole situation, partially from the string of nonstop doctor visits being over (for now), and partially because the toddler’s speech has really been picking up. Here’s an updated list of what he’s been saying …
He’s also been even better with his signs lately, adding new ones like “soup” and “wake up” and “scared” and “rain” and “pancakes.” He’s at a great age to pick things up from his Signing Time DVDs. Whenever they do a sign, he’s automatically trying to copy it.
With all these new words, Darling Husband and I have discovered what it’s like to have a verbal child. It’s … louder, for sure. His endless shrieks of “No!” and “Mo, mo, more!” are very strange to us, since he’s always been so quiet. It’s like, wait, why did we want him to talk?
We joke about the newfound volume problem, but really, we’re as proud as punch whenever he comes out with a word instead of a sign.
Even if the word is “No.”
Dear Baby Girl,
I can’t believe I’m almost 33 weeks pregnant, and have yet to write you a single letter.
I feel guilty because I wrote more letters for your big brother, and I don’t want you to feel like I love you any less. I think because when I was pregnant with him, I had no real concept of what to expect. And now that he’s already *here* and you’re not (yet), it is making it harder to wrap my head around the idea of you.
I did, however, write a lot about you way before I was even pregnant with you. I even dreamed about you. I often think about who you will look like. I keep picturing you as a clone of your brother, except with a bow in your hair — and a lot of pink clothes — because that’s all I know. I also imagine you acting just like him. I keep forgetting that you may look — and act — absolutely nothing like your brother. You will be your own person that we’ll need to get to know.
Your brother looked exactly like Daddy until he was about a year old, and then he started to look like both of us. Will you look like me from the beginning, with dark hair and dark eyes? Will you have the same crooked pinkies that I have (and passed along to your brother)? Will you have Daddy’s nose and feet (also passed along to your brother)?
Your room is ready (and it’s beautiful, if I do say so myself). We have clothes and diapers and tiny socks. We have a double-stroller, and your brother has been practicing by pushing dolls around in it (and using it as a jungle gym). It’s very sweet to see him try to swaddle them in scraps of fabric I’ve given him. He is trying very hard to master it, so he will be able to help take care of you.
We’ve been ready for you for a while, and that makes it even harder to wait to meet you. We know the date that will probably be your birthday (April 25), but you could always surprise us and come earlier than that.
Every day it becomes a little more real, but it still feels a bit abstract. Even though I know you’re coming, I can’t fully visualize it. It won’t be real until the moment you’re here in the world, and I get to hold you. Then it will sink in that I have a daughter — that I have you.
I can’t wait.
Love, Mommy
xoxoxo
After finding out last week that the toddler failed a hearing test — and has a minor hearing loss — I’ve been thinking about his hearing and speech OFTEN (to put it mildly).
I have noticed that two words are really improving, though. Over the last two weeks, he’s been saying “Yeah!” a lot more when I ask him a question.
“Do you want some juice?”
“Yeah!”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah!”
He used to say “Yetthhhh” sometimes, but his “Yeah!” is very peppy and clear. It’s so blissfully normal that I feel VERY happy whenever he says it.
His other improvement is trying (very hard) to say “more.” He’s only EVER just signed “more,” but over the last week he’s been saying “Mo” when he signs it!
It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s really a huge step for him. His little face puckers into an exaggerated “O” shape and he puts his fingertips together and pipes up, “Mo!”
He has also dropped several words, though, so here is his current list:
It’s disappointing that he seems to have stopped saying his two two-syllable words (apple and purple), but at least we’ve added two (more and yeah).
I’ve started signing more since the appointment last week, and he’s responded by signing even more, too. He confused the heck out of the playground coordinators when he started signing “water” — they thought he was shushing someone!
He’ll be seeing his family doctor on Friday, so I’m hoping a referral to an ENT (Ear Nose Throat) doctor is in the cards. In the meantime, we’ll just keep signing, and trying to encourage as many spoken words as we can.
Week 32
(March 3-9)
Symptoms: Heartburn has become a lot more manageable, providing I remember to take one pill with breakfast, one with lunch, and two with dinner (gotta love that four is the daily max — it’s perfect). I’m very accustomed to the shortness of breath, but it still surprises me sometimes, to be breathing hard and clutching my stomach at the top of two flights of stairs. The baseball-jammed-in-the-centre-of-my-back pain is a huge, well, PAIN. It’s making it harder to sit in my desk chair and work, or to handle car-rides.
Body changes: Stomach is still low. Boobs are still … ugh. It makes me sad that they’re not as big as they were last time, but I’m also not as chunky lush as I was during my last pregnancy, so I suppose it’s a good thing.
Baby movement: Evenings are Baby Girl’s dance party time, apparently. Sometimes it’s so intense and uncomfortable that I can’t sleep until she calms down. I feel like Baby Boy’s movements were stronger but less frequent, and Baby Girl’s are more constant and sharp.
Cravings: Homemade muffins with butter. Uh … can’t think of anything else.
Aversions: I usually don’t feel like eating anything anymore. It was like that towards the end last time.
High point: Some lovely playdates! They’re my absolute favourite way to spend the morning, because the toddler is happy to have friends to play with, and I’m happy to have friends to chat with. Win-win!
Low point: Taking the toddler for his hearing test, and getting some unexpected results.
How does this week compare to Week 32 during pregnancy #1? Still no swelling (which was a HUGE issue last time), although sometimes my legs/ankles look a little … thick … when I examine them at night. I can’t press my fingers into them like Silly Putty (like last time), so I don’t think they’re swollen. Just chunky?
Baby preparation: I always leave the door of the nursery open, just so I can walk by and admire it — and occassionally sneak in to sigh over the sweet little baby outfits and shoes. Everything’s done — even the double-stroller is set up (the toddler is using it as a playground in the family room) — and even though we need a few things (changing pad, Playard sheets, etc.) I’m not stressing about it. Yet.
Your kind comments, emails, Facebook messages, texts, and calls mean so much to me.
Quick update on HearingGate 2012:
When I told people that he had a confirmed ear infection, the general reaction was relief — like everything would be cured with a week’s worth of banana-scented medicine. Like he wouldn’t have any hearing problems once he took the last dose.
I am not trying to be negative, but I just feel — very strongly — that it’s not as simple as that. I’m not terribly relieved that he has an ear infection. I can’t shake the feeling that it is MORE than just that. More than just this one infection.
Because, really, what are the odds that he just happened to have an ear infection on the day of his hearing test, causing him to fail it? Do I think his hearing was perfect up until whenever he got his infection? No.
What are the odds that his speech delay, his stilted/poorly-pronounced words, are not related to the hearing issue at all? Do I think the two are unrelated? Definitely not.
He is not just a “late talker.” Because as I told my friend J this morning at playgroup, I can’t ignore the fact that the toddler’s speech sounds like the speech of a hearing-impaired person.
It does.
It always has.
And while I definitely don’t think he has major hearing loss — he points to pictures I ask him to point out, he follows instructions, he listens to stories — I do think that he has had “mild hearing loss” for quite a while — maybe since he turned one, or even before. Enough for it to mess up his speech and pronunciation.
I feel much calmer today. I am not falling apart anymore. I still feel frustrated that the medical/doctor/review process is being so pokey, but at least it’s moving … slowly.